Counterpoint on the margin of St Valentine's
by AmadErik
Summary: A Valentine's Day fanfiction of Phantom of the Opera. Small oneshot. Happy Valentine's Day 2018! Entry for the Phantom's Valentine One-Shot contest. - Rewarded with "Best Erik" prize.


How I loathe Valentine's Day…

No, not only this day of course, but it is on the list of my most hated days ever. My all life is miserable, so every day should be exactly this miserable, but as this is the day of love, it is worse for me.

It just keeps reminding me how very lonely I am, and how no one likes me at all, because I am ugly old monster. Everyone else has someone to love, and I don't, did not have, and will never ever have anyone. I am already 48 years old, and I spent exactly 48 years in utter isolation, without tasting love. Loneliness was always my only companion. Never ever in my life I had anyone to love me. Mother gave me my first mask on the day of my birth, crying, to hide my hideously ugly face from her sight and so she did never have to look at me. She loathed the thought to touch me, not even for a well- deserved slap, she was too disgusted to hit me, or to look at me, even if I wore my mask, she rather did not come closer to me than three steps. When I asked for a kiss, once in my desperation, at the age of six, she ran away from me in fright, throwing my mask at me. I was holding a piece of the hem of her dress for a long time which was left in my hand, she fled so desperately… it was an expensive dress from Paris… but she rather tore it than staying with me.

I never received a kiss in my life, from anyone. No one wanted to kiss such a face, and I never knew a woman who literally wished to marry me or touch or kiss me after they saw my face. Mother would rather have died than letting me kiss her or kiss me by her own free will, and I bet Mahtab would have ran out of the room screaming if I ever removed that mask. Oh Mahtab…

Mahtab, my sweet first love… She was such a sweet little girl, she was so light and danced like no one else I knew before or since. Persian music and her dancing twisted my young twenty- something year old head, and I guessed I was able to marry her one day. How foolish we were… did we really think I was able to take her to Europe? A property of the Shah himself? One of his most precious dancers? And even if so, what did I think? Did I think she would have survived seeing my face?

Oh how could she have when I clearly know no woman survived it…

I kill each and every woman I meet and cause misfortune to them through their lives.

I am sorry, Suzanne, for your death. You were not even alive for a second after you were born, and I believe, and so did Mother believe so, that you had to die because you shared her womb with me. I don't know if it is true, but seeing how I affected the lives of women I knew, and you were the first girl I met, you might have arrived to the world lifelessly because of me.

I did not meet any other girl who interested me until Persia…

Mahtab, you had to die because you did not wish to give up hope to chain yourself to a monster you did not even know, you wished to come with me to France, and the Shah ordered you to be executed… I am sorry dear, but I had to interfere… It was better for you to die by my hands than at the Torture Chamber I designed… I would have killed you anyway, just because you were too stubborn to say you were going to be faithful to your owner, the Shah…

And Annabelle…

Annabelle… I am sorry… I could not tolerate… your screams…

It started innocently enough, did it?

You heard me playing as a street violinist and you fell in love with… not me. The music I made. You came back to my usual place I played at, many- many times and you never moved from there. You listened my singing and playing for hours, and you kept talking to me so I will have to answer you. You loved my voice, as everyone seemed to love it… You asked me about many things and found out I was educated and a good talking partner. I don't know if you were right about it or not. I have to admit, the fact you talked to me all the time and I had to reply always, and that you were looking at me for hours, did make me feel uncomfortable mostly. It was unknown to me that someone was interested in me. You wished to know me better… oh Annabelle, how foolish you were…! Foolish, silly girl!

You ran into your fate.

You thought the mask was strange. It was, of course, no other men wore one. You kept asking why I wear it. I always pretended I did not hear your inquiry. You should have left it at that, noticing it has a reason I am not telling… but you kept asking. And… later you had to find out…

I admit, Annabelle, that your kindness and nice smile moved my heart. I started liking you after a time and waited for you to appear on the street. I started playing your favorite songs you requested. I… I daresay I would have fallen in love with you within a few months' time if you weren't that pushy about seeing my face. If only you could have just ignored it…

I am sorry I squeezed your throat so tightly… I did not really meant it. I always acted like a wild animal in my youth when someone removed my mask. Nowadays I rather take it easy and just scare the attacker away. But at that time you were the one to scare me. And your screams… I NEVER tolerated screams… I only wanted you to STOP SCREAMING… You stopped it for good.

So… just thinking about you women, who were miserable enough to cross my path, I loathe Valentine's Day even more.

Now, I think, I should not love anyone. No woman deserves the misfortune and tragic fate to be my lover or wife, ever. I wish to cause no more deaths… no more than my own.

Now, as I step on the bridge's railing and look at the Seine flowing under my feet, it looks so soothing, even though it must be cold, and a bit filthy. I also fear that I start involuntarily swimming, it must be easier to someone who cannot swim at all.

Well, anyway, I have to try…

But as I wanted to jump, I hear a strange noise… a baby…? A baby is crying. Where is that baby? Why would there be a baby on the bridge, or under it? Where does that cry come from?

I opened my eyes and shook my head, trying to get my common sense finally. It was a dream. I was laying on our bed, with Christine sleeping next to me, and now I knew I heard Noel crying in his cradle. I got up from the bed, thanking my son now in my mind because he woke me up from this horrible lamenting dream. I hugged the youngest child close to me as I checked on him. He needed to be changed. Not a heartwarming task to do, but I am thankful I have children and a wife… a wife of my own. As I finished taking care of Noel, I kissed his forehead lovingly as I put him down to sleep again. That boy exactly looked like his mother I adored from the depths of my heart. The same big blue eyes and light blonde hair, the same small round nose…

Walking back to bed I noticed the calendar on the wall showed 13th February. I quickly checked my pocket watch to see if it was already past midnight. It was! It was Valentine's Day! Since I had a wife, I loved that day so much.

I tore the page of 13th off, and gladly stared at the 14th…

I turned to face the bed again, examining my sweet little wife, sleeping there peacefully. I could not help but walk to her, and gently, not to disturb her slumber, I petted her arm, and gave a soft kiss on her forehead. She opened her beautiful clear blue eyes, and looked at me a bit sleepily, but gave me a heartfelt loving smile. Oh how beautiful her smile is!

\- Erik… - She whispered. – Is something wrong?

\- No. – I replied. – I took care of Noel. – I sat down on the edge of her bedside as I could not help, I had to spend some time next to her, as she was already awake.

\- Is he all right? – She sat up.

\- He is. – I nodded. – Christine… do you know what is today?

\- No, what? – She yawned, being a bit of sleepy still.

\- It is Valentine's Day! – I stated with excitement.

\- Oh… how could I forget? – She shook her head with a smile and kissed me on the forehead.

\- Christine…

\- Yes, dear?

\- Before you fall back asleep I have to tell you something…

\- Which is? – She winked.

\- You must be… you must be the fifth scale degree of a diatonic scale, my love…

\- What are you talking about… in this early hour…? I am not awake enough to solve riddles. Why would I be a scale degree?

\- Because you are always dominant in my thoughts. – I kissed her with a playful chuckle. . Happy St. Valentine's Day, Christine.

\- To you too, my husband. – She replied, laughing by her all heart over my strange love confession.


End file.
